[Everyone knows] You should have given me three.  It's always three: three wishes, three chances.  How could you [be so stupid, so uncaring as to] only give me two?

I put you first—isn't that what lovers do?

I threw down my pride, discarded my confidence, tore down my happiness, and as you demanded, I sacrificed my voice at your altar, because it was easier than arguing with stone; and all so you could feel a little less terrible as you trampled them underfoot and then, when you were done, I held open the door and let you back in and you tried the same thing.  So what makes you think I'll do it again?  Fool me twice—you think you get a new chance?  You think you deserve it?

                           Hell no.

                                         You're out.